


After: Adult Edition

by PonderRose



Category: After - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial, Dominance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Jealousy, Love, Love Triangles, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PonderRose/pseuds/PonderRose
Summary: Tessa, or Tessy as she's known in this story, does not believe in love in the slightest when she meets Hardin; which works out because Hardin feels the exact same way. After Hardin is dared to make Tessa fall in love with him however, he has to try and break down her walls. Without either of them realizing it, she unexpectedly makes his walls crumble first. HardinxTessa. Enjoy!





	1. Prologue

“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.”  
-Bertrand Russell

I have two main addictions: Lush and fancy tea. I can’t go one day without either. My bathroom looks like a Lush store and four out of five shelves in my masters’ dorm room were for tea and teaware; the fifth was for books. The only problem is that I’m a poor student and both indulgences are expensive. 

When I was in masters- jobless I might add because I wanted to get it done in one year- I redid my budget. Surprisingly most of my funds were not spent on either Lush or tea but food. I liked to eat well but rarely ate out; and no, I don’t drink. Most money was spent on takeout, pricey ingredients for homemade meals, or fancy chocolate- the kind from Hotel Chocolat. Solution? Cut my diet in half. 

Now I know what you’re thinking. But Tessy, I hear you say, that’s super unhealthy! You can’t just stop eating half the amount of your normal food intake, can you? Yes; yes, you can. I realized that my relationship with food was injurious, to say the least. I used to eat whatever I want when I want; which sometimes meant two or three full chocolate bars in one day. And no- I never got fat eating like that either. My body is both a blessing and a curse; can eat anything and not gain weight, but cannot tan at all. Skin cancer is in my future; I’ve accepted it as an inevitability with how much I’ve been burnt before. So when I say I cut my diet in half, that means I’ve cut it back to one chocolate bar a day instead of three. Also smaller portions of still considerably unhealthy meals. As a nihilist and absurdist, I am ok with this. Oh, and by the way: if you don’t know what those terms mean, do yourself a favor and do not look them up- they will just ruin your day like they did for me when I first learned them. Trust me on this; I don’t have skulls everywhere in my room because I’m goth. 

Why am I telling you all this? So it doesn’t seem weird when I order a double big mac for my grandfather and chicken nugget happy meal for me. Oh yes, I do get weird looks when I order off the kids’ menu- all the time. But it’s cheaper and I need that extra money for a jelly facemask and Baskin Robbins’ ice cream later. Sue me, people who think MScs ordering off the kids’ menu is weird. 

Grandpa was busy doing an experiment at the kitchen island when I got back. I’m reluctant to call this apartment in America “home” cause I’m moving back to the UK this weekend. I only came back to San Diego for a year after masters; I needed a break after like ten straight years of school- I have one regular degree, one honours degree, and one MSc. It was necessary I rest before starting my PhD in York next month. 

Anyway! I lived with my crazy, science-obsessed grandpa; he’s like Rick from Rick and Morty, minus the assholeness. He raised me here in San Diego, which was unfortunate considering that I burned after ten minutes in the sun, with sun screen on- good times. I tossed his regular brown bag on the counter and took my cute little happy meal box over to the couch. Our place wasn’t big; a two-bedroom apartment near the water. I was busy inspecting the snoopy toy accompanying my dinner when Grandpa took off his goggles and heavy-duty rubber gloves, and came over to sit with me to eat. 

“I hate visas,” I said, munching on a fry. “No one likes visas, Tessy. But you got yours just in time, so be grateful for that at least.” “With how much we paid for priority shipping, it had better be here before we leave,” mmmmmm, more fries. “Speaking of which, are you all packed?” “Just my kettle and some Lush stuff in the bathroom,” I had a temperature-controlled kettle I went everywhere with. “Leave your kettle here. I’ll buy you a new one in York.” “But that’s like a hundred pounds,” I gave a half-hearted counter. My mind however was like “new kettle?!”. Grandpa’s hand waved in the air as he chopped into his big mac. “Think of it as a congrats for starting school present.” “Alright then; thank you! New kettle!” And I knew which one I wanted too; one you could control the temperature with your phone. Ah, my dream appliance.

Grandpa took a sip of his coke. “And your books?” “Boxed up in my closet,” I stuck my thumb out behind me towards the hall. “That’s like five full boxes!” Grandpa let out a gasp. I nodded, continuing to chew down. “I won’t make the weight limit if I bring more than twenty books. I’ll get the rest shipped over someday.” “So meanwhile they’re just going to sit in your closet and do nothing?” “Pretty much. I’m bringing the most important books.” “You mean all your philosophical novels and tea guides.” “Exactly!” “What about your logic textbook? You’re teaching that this year, aren’t you?” “Elementary logic and I’ll buy a textbook when I’m out there to recap. No worries.” 

Setting down his soft drink, my grandfather rested his hand on his chin and grinned over at me. I smiled in turn. “What?” “Look at you. My little girl’s gonna be a doctor in three years.” “God willing,” I corrected kindly; I know I managed to do an honours degree in four years and masters in one year, but PhD in three years? I’m a human; not a wizard. “You’re growing so fast! Pretty soon you’ll be a professor just like your old, old man!” “Awe, Grandpa.” “Though I still don’t get how the only grandchild of one of the greatest scientists of my generation went into philosophy of all things,” he always called himself a genius. “Because I like philosophy? Besides! We both know I’m horrible when it comes to science.” “You wrote a good paper for your philosophy of science class.” “Yeah, but that didn’t involve doing any experiments; only thinking about them,” my lips flashed him a side grin. 

His lovely head shook half-disapprovingly, half-adoringly. “At least you’re smart enough not to get married. In that regard, you beat me.” “Why would I get married? The only real love that exists is familial; well, and friendship.” “So true. How did you get so wise?!” “I’m your granddaughter, Grandpa. Don’t worry about that- single for life is me,” I stuffed more nuggets happily into my mouth. Grandpa nodded, finally with some approval. “I wish I was like you at your age. Instead I had to be a moron, fall in love, and get married. Glad one of us is breaking the cycle; even if you’re not doing it to focus on science.” “Nope. Philosophy all the way for me.” All the way.


	2. Two Weeks Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You move to York.

Formons les plus brillants concerts;  
Quand Jupiter porte les fers  
De l'incomparable Platée,  
Je veux que les transports de son âme enchantée,  
S'expriment par mes chants divers.

If you didn’t understand any of that, don’t worry; I didn’t either. It’s from a French opera called Air de la Folie by Rameau. But I’m not here to brag about that. I went to Leeds that Saturday night to see an opera; my first in Europe since Florence back in my undergrad exchange. Some people in their twenties spend their nights out in bars, pubs, or clubs, but I’d much prefer the opera or symphony myself. And did frequent- lots. At cheaper-priced seats of course. 

After the opera was over, I took the train back to York; it wasn’t a long ride. I’d been living in York for two weeks now and wanted to get out of the city for a day. Don’t get me wrong, I love York. But Leeds was bigger and had my most favorite guilty pleasure food-wise: Taco Bell. In masters, I used to take the train from Edinburgh to Glasgow for the sole purpose of going to Taco Bell. I visited their many museums and university, of course; but Taco Bell was the main draw. I got myself two tacos before heading back. How’s that for class? Stop in for junk food after an evening at the opera? And I loved it. 

I walked from the train station back to my college building. I had a bike but didn’t trust it locked up at the station just yet. Besides, it was like a fifteen minute walk back to my place and the streets were always full of life at night; and not in the bad way either. I put in my music and strolled back, enjoying that post-taco feeling of regret and gurgles. Ah, good times. 

I lived at an apartment building owned by the university in downtown; it was actually right across the street from the castle, if you can believe that. Only postgrads like me could live there, so it was a fairly quiet building. My room was on the ground floor, which is the American equivalent of the first floor; I don’t understand it either- don’t ask. When I approached the front of the building, something caught my eye as off. 

A motorcycle. Huh- that’s weird. No one here owned a car; we literally had nowhere to park it. It costed an arm and a leg to use the bike shed out back. I mean, I guess someone could have a motorcycle here, but why? Just like why? Curious, I went inside and climbed the staircase to my floor. My room was halfway down the hallway on the left side; just a simple room with a single bed, chair, desk and chair, and single-person bathroom with a shower. I only knew one other person on my floor- Steph Jones who was also ironically from America. She was getting her PhD in biology; she also lived right across the hall from me luckily. Her door was open when I got back. She immediately smiled at me upon my arrive from where she was sitting on her bed. 

“Hey, Tessy. How was Leeds?” “Lovely. How was your Saturday?” “Eh, got some research done,” she gave a half-hearted shrug and glanced away. Well that’s more work than I did, I thought unlocking my door. “Did you see that motorcycle outside?” “Huh?” Her eyes turned back to me. “A bike; there’s a motorcycle outside.” “Oh! That’s Hardin’s; he’s my friend,” was her short explanation. “Oh,” my head nodded as I opened my door. She flashed me another brilliant smile. “Going to bed?” “Yeah, I’m exhausted,” French opera and Taco Bell will do that to a person. “Ok; well, have a good night.” “You too. Night night!” And with that, I shut the door behind me and promptly forgot about the conversation.


	3. A New Office and New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa meets Landon at her new office on campus.

“And this’ll be your office for the term, Miss Young,” the secretary led me to a small room on the second floor of our department building. “Thank you,” I entered, feeling curious. Huh, so this is my very first office on campus ever. Cool! It was a little place with two old, wooden desks, two very tall bookshelves opposite the desks, a window, a fold-out chair, two desk chairs, and a mute fireplace. Above each desk was a bare stickle board; luckily for me, I came prepared with my own tacks. Something I learned while in masters. 

Since it looked like the desk closest to the window was taken, on account of all the papers scattered on it, I took the other one. After pulling out my books, I got to the important matter: decorating my stickle board! Three postcards, a picture of Grandpa and young Mom, and a mini poster of some of my favourite anime characters later, I stood in pride over my artistic achievement. Ah, now this is starting to feel like my kind of office. 

“That’s an interesting assortment.” My head spun to the doorway to see a man roughly my age standing in its threshold. He was tall, fairly handsome, and carrying a backpack. Wearing a friendly smile, he came in, tossing his bag on the desk chair beside mine. “You must be Dr. Grind’s new supervisee. Hi, I’m Landon,” his hand stuck out awaiting mine. Grinning, I shook it. “Tessa; I guess we’re office-mates.” “Looks that way,” Landon released my hand, planting both on his hips and gazing up at my board. He grinned, more to himself than to me. 

“Let’s see. François Gérard’s “Psyche and Cupid”. Rembrandt’s “The Anatomy Lesson”. The gardens of Versailles. And……. a Dragon Ball Z card?” His eyebrow raised. “I got that one at the Louvre. That’s from the Mauritshuis museum in the Hague. And that’s from Chinatown in San Diego,” I pointed to the mini DBZ poster. “Ah, a woman of culture,” he flashed me a pleasant grin, which I instantly mirrored. “I’m surprised you knew all these! Even I’ve forgotten who painted Psyche and Cupid. And a man who likes Dragon Ball- very fine.” 

“I used to watch Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z all the time as a kid. Who’s your favourite character? Wait! Don’t tell me: it’s Vegeta.” I laughed. “You’re right! How’d you know that?” “You seem like you’d appreciate the characters with depth.” “And that excludes Goku or Gohan?” He gave me one of those looks. “They’re deep in different ways. As for me, I’ve always been a Piccolo fan.” “That’s it. We can’t be friends.” And he too laughed at this. 

“So…….” “So?” “This is your first year of PhD, huh?” Landon then went to sit down in the fold out chair near the window; his hands folded over his lower chest in a relaxed fashion. “Yes. I just moved to York two weeks ago. What about you? Is this your first year?” “Second. My brother and I are both getting our PhDs here. I’ve had Dr. Grinds for a supervisor about eh, a year now? He’s great! You’ll love working with him.” “Ok, good! I’ve heard supervisor horror stories in masters.” “Where’d you get your masters? In the US?” My head shook. “Edinburgh.” “Ooooooh, you’re one of them, are you? No wonder you got in here.” Again, this made me laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “It is! I’d give an arm and leg to go to Edinburgh for masters. Not that York is bad though! Actually, I went to Manchester.” “Oh, I’ve heard good things about Manchester! Did you like it there?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh, a little too much like London for my liking. I’m glad to be here for three years.” “Yeah, I’ve been to Manchester a couple of times. It’s not a bad city! It’s just really big.” “Says the woman from San Diego,” he countered kindly. And my grin widened as I took a seat on my desk chair. 

We spent the next hour just talking, instead of you know, working. Turns out he was teaching here too- first year introduction to logic. He was more into analytical philosophy than me, but diversity is a department is a good thing! We talked about everything under the sun. Our undergrad and postgrad experiences, what we were researching, what we liked to do for fun, etc. Whatever we discussed, it sure made the hour go by fast. By the time the department was closing up, neither of us had really done anything. Not that we were too concerned, mind you. 

I think both of us knew, though weren’t exactly certain at the moment, that this was start of a beautiful friendship.


	4. The World's Quickest Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardin meets Tessa in record time.

Ok! First day of lecturing today. I am so totally prepared! “Ok, let’s go through the list. Notes, check. Textbook, check. Pad of paper, check. Phone, check. Orange, check. Bottle of water, check-o! Uh, what am I missing? Hmmmmmm,” my fingers snapped together. “Tea! Gotta move quickly!” 

Grabbing my teaware from my designated tea shelf- or should I say shelves- I made a dash out my dorm room door and down the hall to the shared kitchen. Maybe here I should explain the layout of my college a little better. You see, each floor has its own wreck room and kitchen for residents of said floor. There isn’t an oven or stove in that tiny kitchen, but there is a fridge, kettle, microwave, and toaster. The main kitchen for all college residence was in the basement, or ground floor as they called it. It was used by like a hundred and fifty of us. For quick trips, I stuck with our personal kitchen, despite its size. 

I went there, got my water in my new temperature-controlled kettle boiling, and set my teaware up. “Gotta move! Gotta move!” I repeatedly reminded myself. There’s no way I’m going to be late on my first day; so not going to happen. I guess I was too distracted to realize that I had put my key fob- complete with skull keychain- down on the counter. Instead, I snatched my fresh water and cooked the tea. It poured beautifully into my pink Corkcicle water container. Perfect! With that, I rushed out of the room, totally forgetting my key. That was a problem, as the kitchen door automatically locked behind us. 

I didn’t notice my missing key fob until I was outside my dorm door, ready to lock it. I was wearing my men’s Superdry raincoat, along with wearing my full backpack and pink, lightly stained converses. It took me a second to remember that I’d left my key in the kitchen, causing me to gasp in horror. I ran to the kitchen door, frantically jiggling the doorknob. 

“No….. no, no, no, no!” This can’t be happening! Why now of all times? I never leave my key fob in there; this never happens! Now what the hell am I supposed to do? There’s not enough time to go get the porter and get him to open the door for me. Class is supposed to start in thirty minutes for frik’s sake! “Please open! I don’t have time for this! Please open up!” 

While I was struggling like mad with this, I once again failed to notice the presence approach from down the hall. It was a man, maybe a year or two older than me. I didn’t look at him right away, with him gazing from my frustrated expression to the kitchen door. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was wrong. Soon enough, he cleared his throat, finally catching my attention. I paused to blink over at him, still keeping my hands on the door handle. I don’t care how unspeakably hot he was- I needed that key fob right now! 

But to my surprise and delight, he grinned- only very slightly, mind you- holding up an unfamiliar key fob of his own. As if to be reading his mind, I wordlessly stepped out of his way and he came in to unlock the door. Before he could go in, I made a mad dash inside, quick to seize my key. Suddenly full of relief, I set it in my coat pocket, careful to zip it up protectively. The man only watched me without saying anything, though that is not to say it was quiet for long. Within the minute, Steph rounded the corner, entering the kitchen alongside us. 

“Hardin, I thought you’d………” Steph’s sentence trailed off at the sight of me scrambling around with my coat and tea cannister. “Tessy?” “Hi, Steph! I gotta go! Thanks, whoever you are, for opening the door!” I ran towards the threshold. Steph seemed puzzled, turning her eyes in between the strange man and me. “Wait, Tessy? Have you met my friend, Hardin, yet?” Her skinny finger pointed at the stoic man in the room with us. “No! I gotta go! I’m gonna be late for my first day of class! Thanks again!” 

They both simply observed as I scurried down the hall to the staircase; no time to wait for elevators. To be honest, I didn’t think about the guy named Hardin for the rest of the day. I didn’t make the connection in my brain that he was Steph’s friend and that motorcycle I sometimes saw outside belonged to him. No, I had more important things to think about, such as lecturing to a bunch of first years and binge-watching Nickelodeon’s Victorious tonight. 

Hey, not every night can be an opera night, as much as I’d like that to be the case.


End file.
